


and we will all go down together

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Minor Sexual Content, anniversary fic, french holiday, harry and louis go on holiday in france, holiday au, larry stylinson - Freeform, minor smut, non-graphic, proposal au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 17:37:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6018853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They’ve been wanting it for a while now, a holiday, but were never able to get around to the actual planning. Harry finally took it all by the reigns and scheduled everything. When he was happy with his decision, something simple, something really brilliantly beautiful, he printed out the information and sealed it. </p><p>The holiday was them, to put it simply. Harry knew Louis would absolutely love it, without any doubt. </p><p>or, alternately, Harry books a trip to France for he and Louis to get away for a while.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and we will all go down together

**Author's Note:**

> I got the idea for this story from this post on tumblr: http://justkindahappened.tumblr.com/post/67611052172/they-finally-get-their-winter-vacation-and
> 
> It took a while, but I'm trying to write again, and I'm kind of really happy with this fic despite it being nothing immensely special. So, I really do hope you enjoy it! 
> 
> Follow me on tumblr: tealourry.tumblr.com

It’s been exhausting to say the least. Mindlessly nodding along to horrific stunts set up by their PR team, going along with everything that was handed to him in the form of a script. Needless to say, the year was long and drawn-out, and Harry couldn’t wait for it to end. The ups and downs of it all led to where Harry sat now, in the middle of his too-big kitchen inside of his too-big flat waiting for Louis to arrive home, with an envelope sitting on the table, perfectly centered.

They’ve been wanting it for a while now, a holiday, but were never able to get around to the actual planning. Harry finally took it all by the reigns and scheduled everything. When he was happy with his decision, something simple, something really brilliantly beautiful, he printed out the information and sealed it.

The holiday was _them,_ to put it simply. Harry knew Louis would absolutely love it, without any doubt.

Harry heard the front door unlock just as he popped the cork on a bottle of Côtes du Rhône. He poured two glasses with a smile and called, “Hello, love.”

Louis rounded the corner and Harry’s smile only grew as he entered the kitchen. His poor boy’s cheeks were bitten red from the harsh wind outside, his eyes a little teary and his hair windswept, but he looked soft and gorgeous nonetheless.

“Hi.” Louis pecked him on the nose and sighed. “What’s with the wine? Are you being sued?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Christ, I hope not. Just decided on ordering takeaway and having a nice glass of red.”

Louis examined the open bottle. “That’s an expensive one at that…Curry or Chinese?”

“Curry,” Harry replied. “Only the best for you.”

Louis grinned. “Brilliant. Now what’s this?” He jutted his chin out to their table and sipped his wine. “Harry, if you’re being sued you better tell me now because we bloody well know that the minute those arseholes up at the offices hear about this-“

 _“Louis.”_ Harry gave him a stern look which immediately made his mouth shut. “No one is being sued. Not me, not you, and certainly not both of us together. It’s just a little gift,” he shrugged and turned to unpack the curry from the paper bags sitting on the countertop. “Now, open it.”

Harry kept his back to Louis as he smirked into the cupboards collecting two bowls. He heard a soft gasp from behind him and bit down on his lip to keep himself from jumping the gun.

“You made holiday arrangements,” Louis asked in awe. “I…H, we were going to work on setting this up together! You went and did it all alone, that’s not fair.”

Harry shook his head. His arms snaked around Louis’ waist and he pulled his boy in close. “Lou, we are both two dysfunctional, unorganized, and busy, busy people not on our own accord. We keep talking about a trip but we’ve not gotten around to it, so I’ve gone and planned it myself. The last time we were able to do this together was almost three years ago, now. It’s about time we changed that, yeah?”

Louis couldn’t, for the life of him, wipe the grin off his face. “You planned a trip to France behind my back.” He gave a short laugh and continued. “You sneaky little dog, you.”

“It’s not like we’re short on money, love. We’re financially stable, and that’s putting it lightly. We’ve been given a break after _years_ and we finally get to kick back properly. But if you’re not happy with it, I can cancel it all and we can sit around and get followed by our lovely paparazzi-friends.”

“No, no, no! I’m so damn happy, it’s…I’m at a loss for words, honestly.” Louis shook his head. “So where in France are we going? Paris? Some lavish hotel in Toulouse?”

“Mh, not quite. I rented a little flat for us. In Pézenas.”

“Pézenas? Where’s that?”

“Southern part of the country. I thought it would be nice for us. The town is small, the people there are so friendly, and the flat is beautiful.”

Louis shook his head in shock. “How do you know all this, H? How did you manage to sneak around when I wasn’t paying attention and set all of this up?”

He nuzzled into Louis’ neck with his lips pressing lightly into his jawline. “I went to a travel agent. She gave me all the information I needed and helped me sift through the rubble to find everything that fit our criteria; quiet, small, and friendly. Best part is, everyone knows everyone in the town so we have less of a chance of being recognized.”

“You couldn’t have just planned a ski trip like the one we had a few years back?”

“Nope, we needed something unfamiliar.” Harry leaned back. “Don’t you agree?”  

Louis sighed. “I do, I really do. It’s just hard nowadays, isn’t it? Being able to be _us_ without being shackled or held back?”

“When did you get all poetic?”

“I’ve been spending too much time with you, is all,” he shrugged.

“Heeeey…”

“Hush, love, I could spend all the time in the world with you. And believe me, I intend to…I could never get bored of you.” Louis reached his hand up to tuck a curl behind Harry’s ear. “Your hair’s gotten so long, H.”

Harry pouted. “Is that a bad thing?”

“Not at all. I love it.”

“You love my hair,” he whispered into his neck.

“That I do. The longer the better,” he said with a wink.

Harry scoffed and playfully swatted Louis away. “You’re gross! Go away.”

“Never ever ever ever ever,” he chimed. “You’re stuck with me and you’ll like it. Now, when are we leaving?”

“This Sunday. We’re taking the tube out to Paris then we’ll grab a bite if we have time and take a night train down to Pézenas. Almost twelve hours, but I thought going at night would be the best option. That train leaves at around half eight, and we get to the station at about a quarter past seven the next morning. And then it’s over to our much-needed getaway for four weeks.”

“We’ll find a way to kill time,” Louis hummed. “We always do.”

“Louis Tomlinson I refuse to get kicked off a train due to a noise complaint,” Harry warned. “We’ve already come close to getting kicked out of hotels a few times, but at least then we’d still have somewhere to sleep. If we get kicked off a train, I’ll kick you.”

“Mh-hm, yeah sure you will. Now, c’mon love, I’m starving.”

 

*

 

That following Sunday evening found Harry and Louis sitting in their overnight car getting ready for bed. It was surprisingly spacious and elegant, with a room-length window allowing them to see outside, carpeting, and a double bed. The night itself was spent with quiet kisses and murmurs of excitement.

By noon the following day they were completely settled into their quiet home.

“Baby, this is absolutely beautiful,” Louis called from the balcony. Their flat overlooked the narrow stone streets, perfect for people-watching. “I can’t believe you found a place as beautiful as this…”

“I’ll make sure to rent at Scottish castle next time,” Harry said into a kiss atop his head. “That way my prince can be treated like real royalty.”

“I don’t need anything like that. This is perfect for us.” They exchanged a quick kiss and Louis sat down on one of the garden chairs. With a contented sigh, he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He lit the cigarette with one swift motion and inhaled the smoke deeply.

Harry looked at him stone. “Louis…” He could immediately see him deflate from the sadness in Harry’s voice. “You need to stop smoking. It’s so bad for you.”

“So is Modest, but bad people cause bad habits, don’t they,” he muttered refusing to look Harry in the eye. “I know it’s bad, H, but it relieves a little bit of the tension. You and me mum are gonna both kill me one day because of this.”

If possible, Harry frowned even more and the crease between his brows sunk even deeper. “That is if lung cancer doesn’t kill you first,” he said as his voice caught in his throat.

“Harry…” Louis immediately put out the cigarette in the ashtray next to him and sat himself in Harry’s lap. “Please, _please_ don’t say that. We’ve come so far, but you talking about something like that is not going to break us apart, you hear? I know it upsets you…I hate smoking, but it’s so fucking hard to stop.” He paused to kiss Harry’s forehead. “I’ll tell you what…This holiday, I’ll try my best to keep away from them, ok?”

“No, Lou I appreciate it, but I don’t want you to get all on edge. This holiday is supposed to be relaxing, and-“

“And it’s about time I try to quit. These next few weeks are about me and you, and nobody else, you hear? You’re the only thing I need to make me feel good. Cigarettes are just temporary.”

Harry gave him a sheepish smile. “Ok…I love you.”

“You, too. To the moon, through all the stars, and back again,” he smiled. “Now, come on. Let’s get some proper lunch. I saw a brilliant little café on the drive over that I’ll keep chatting about until we actually manage to check it out, so let’s go.”

Harry gave him a kiss on the temple and stood up, making sure to shut the balcony doors behind him. He grabbed his small rucksack from where it sat on their bed. When he walked out to the front door Louis was waiting for him with his beanie on and hands stuffed into his back pockets. They laced their fingers together and stepped out of the flat.

“Let’s try and stop at one of the markets if their open on the way back,” Harry suggested as they stepped out onto the street. “I wanted to grab some wine and fruit to keep in the flat. Maybe pick something up to cook for later this week as well.”

“Sounds good to me.” Louis gave Harry’s hand a squeeze.

Later that day they found themselves strolling through a farmer’s market weaving in and out of customers and venders, tasting bits of pastries and things along the way. Harry picked up a new wide-brimmed hat from an old man who was smoking a cigar and singing loudly and in a giddy tone. A woman gave Louis a bag of fresh chocolate croissants which made Harry’s mouth water at the smell, two canvas bags of fruit, bread, wine and meats held between them.

That evening Louis lit a small fire, the boys cuddling up in front with a record on the old player spinning up on a high shelf.

“They were all so nice,” Harry muttered into the dim light of the room. He was laying with his head in Louis’ lap, eyes fluttering shut as Louis’ fingers made their way through his hair, braiding small strands, unbraiding, and braiding them again.

Louis slowed his movements. “Who?”

“The people in the market. They were all so old and friendly, and really cheery. Old people are so nice.”

“We’ve barely killed half a bottle of wine, baby, yet you’re already a bit loopy.”

“I am _not_ loopy. I’m not loopy, or tipsy, or anywhere on that spectrum,” Harry argued. “I’m just happy we were able to walk around with so much confidence.”

“H, you said it yourself on the train over. The town is small enough that everyone knows everyone, and there are several generations of families living here. They’re happy to see a new face around here, they’ll welcome anything.”

Harry sighed. “It’s just hard to believe.” He paused. “Hey…maybe this is paradise.”

“Southern France? In the middle of winter? Yeah, definitely paradise.”

“Well, it’s not Iceland. The weather’s been pretty uppity the last few times I checked, and they keep saying it’ll remain that way as well.” Harry sat up and tucked his knees into his chest. “This could be our little paradise.”

Louis cocked an eyebrow. “The flat?”

“The flat, the town, the countryside. Anything unfamiliar can be our little paradise.”

“You’ve really got to stop reading poetry, Harry.”

Harry scoffed. “You just don’t appreciate good writing.”

“Oh no, I’ve read everything you’ve written and allowed me to. Sang some, even. I find you amazingly talented. You’re my favorite writer.” With fluid movements, Louis pulled Harry up off the couch and looked his arms around his neck. There was a crackling of the fire behind them as he began to sway them back and forth to Sinatra filling up the room.

“Let’s get you to bed,” he whispered.

*

They had been in France for about a week when Harry proposed the idea. A cliché, typical Harry Idea that Louis would _loathe,_ but he suggested it anyway.

“A picnic?” Louis’ forehead was wrinkled, eyes wide in amusement. “Christ, love, you’ve gone a bit romantic ‘aven’t you? What’s next, are we going to a vineyard to make our own wine as well?”

“We’re in the land of romance,” Harry exclaimed. “I can be a proper sop if I want to be.”

Louis circled around him to the hob where the kettle sat. “Are you sure? Because those French romance novels you’ve been reading may need to be tossed if you’re going to be an A-List Sop.”

“Lou,” Harry groaned. “It’s nice out today, the nicest it’s been since we got here, and we don’t have any sort of agenda. No meetings, not luncheons, no reservations. We can do whatever we want.” He leaned close until his lips were on the shell of Louis’ ear. “Don’t you want to spend the day basking in the weak sunlight with me as I tell you _horrible_ stories? Cuddling on a blanket with a wicker basket full of wine and delicious food your wonderful boyfriend prepared?”

Louis turned around and rolled his head back. Harry was… _ridiculous._ “Right. Horrid stories. I’ll only deal with that because it sounds like we’ll be getting a little drunk,” he laughed. “Ok. It’s a date.”

Harry let out a little _yay_ and gave Louis a proper kiss on the lips.

“But you have to promise me you’ll make sure it’s red wine,” Louis sat down at the kitchen table with his tea. “I like it when your lips are nice and pink.”

Harry blushed furiously and threw a grape at him. It was a start.

They drove two hours out of town to the countryside where the only things for miles were fields and fields of grass and baby’s breath and dandelions. The climb up the grassy hill meant Harry carrying the basket and blanket, and Louis carrying himself (“You suggested we do this, so be a gentleman and carry the goods, Curly). Harry wasn’t fondling over this. We was _not._

With the blanket laid out flat and their shoes kicked off, Harry pulled Louis into his lap and kissed him hard.

“Want to know my favorite thing about France,” he whispered into the air.

“What’s that?” Louis turned to face him.

“You. And me. And the fact that we’re here together,” he grinned. “That’s my favorite bit.”

“Mh…” Louis sighed happily. “I suppose that’s a good reason to really enjoy France.” He rolled off of Harry’s lap and onto his back, tucking one arm beneath his head and looking up at the overcast sky. “It’s really peaceful up here.”

Harry hummed in agreement and laid down beside him. He rested his head on his chest and tapped his fingers along to Louis’ heartbeat against his hip. They just lay like that for a while, taking in the scenery, the distant calls of birds and yells of children running about a few meters over. Harry picked at a loose thread on Louis’ jumper as his hair was played with.

“You know,” Louis rested his chin in Harry’s hair. “We’ve really grown up a lot. We used to be really young and carefree when this all first started out. Then everything got so serious after summer 2012, and everything we wanted to do got pushed back more and more.” He paused to swallow. “Do you remember all that?”

“Yeah…we were practically _out_ back then. But we’ve fought hard, don’t you think?”

“Absolutely. You’re my partner in crime, H, and there’s no one I’d rather spend my life with.”

“I second that,” Harry pulled himself closer to Louis if at all possible.

The pair soon dozed off, only to be woken up by rolls of thunder in the distance. Haphazardly, they packed up their things and raced down the hill back to their car, laughing the whole way down. With the heat blasting and the car doors shut, Harry leaned over the console to steal a kiss from Louis. The rain started to come down harder and their kisses got increasingly heated and tougher.

As fast as he could in the rain, Harry raced them home. They stumbled through the front door and barely made it into the bedroom, tripping over their own feet on the way.

“Off,” Harry huffed into Louis’ neck. “This jumper needs to come _off.”_

Louis slid his hands into Harry’s hair, “Easy there, stallion. Don’t tire yourself out just yet.”

They fell back onto the bed, Harry kicking off his jeans and Louis rummaging through the piles of clothing on the floor for his bag.

“Mother of God, where’s the fucking lube?” Louis emerged seconds later with a shaky hand and the bottle gripped tight. “Take off your pants.”

“Not even a please,” Harry clicked his tongue in disappointment. “Not very nice-“

“Harry I’m about to fucking explode, take off your goddamn underwear before I pull my hair out.” Louis was breathless as he pounced on Harry, knocking them both back into the pillows.

Harry tugged Louis’ jeans off and threw them across the room, not even caring about whatever he hit. He hovered Louis, right hand running up and down his chest while Louis brushed back his own fringe.

“Where do you want me,” he panted. There was already a layer of sweat on his forehead and he need Louis _bad._

“Fucking under me. _Shit,_ Harry-“ Louis was cut off by Harry’s hand wrapping around his cock with a determined face. “G-god!”

Harry flipped them over, wrapped his legs around Louis’ waist, and arched his back up from the mattress. “You’re gonna wreck me, Lou, just do it.”

Louis kept one hand in Harry’s hair, tugging at it lightly, and his other stroking his lube-coated length. With no warning given, he pushed into Harry who let out a hiss and a long groan. He smirked into Harry’s collar and bit hard.

“Jesus, Louis,” Harry whined. “Gogogo!”

Louis practically pummeled in and out of Harry as they both gripped each other hard. Harry had a hand wrapped around himself, his hair caught between the layers of pillows and Louis’ fringe was glued to his forehead from sweat. Low and behold, Harry finished himself off as Louis came and curled up to him feeling refreshed and completely exhausted.

“That was a nice picnic,” Louis chuckled. “Really nice.”

“If it wasn’t for that wine and all that rain, this would have probably happened up on the hill.”

“Ooh…” Louis adjusted himself on the sheets. “Yeah, I’m much happier fucking you in private. No one needs to see all of you except me.” He planted a kiss on top of Harry’s warm head. “Though I do love showing you off.”

“Alright, alright. Let’s not scare off the neighbors. This is a friendly town, and all that jazz.”

They stayed like that for the rest of the day, wrapped up around each other and smiling lazily.

*

Their trip was nearing its end; they had four days left and so much they still wanted to do.

“You know, we don’t _have_ to leave,” Louis suggested. “We can stay an extra week.”

Harry shook his head. “No, we can’t do that…I promised Mum I’d visit her and Robin next week anyway, and Gemma was going to tag along.”

“What about her new beau? Michal, right?”

“Yeah, he may come as well. He’s a nice kid. Funny, and he makes my sister happy.” Harry bit his lip. “Just like you make me happy.”

“Ah, you proper sap.” Louis shoved his feet into his shoes by the front door.

“Where are you headed?”

“I am going to pick up some more milk for me tea because we’re all out and run a couple of errands. We don’t have anything planned today, right?”

Harry bit his lip. “No,” he muttered.

“Right then. I’ll be back a little later. Don’t do anything illegal without me.” He gave Harry a wink and scooted out the front door without so much as a second glance.

Normally, Harry wouldn’t be bothered by any of this. But, however, Harry sulked down in the armchair against the lounge wall and pursed his lips. Today was their anniversary, and at half noon, Louis still hadn’t said a thing about it.

Five years. They’d been together officially for five years, having gotten together shortly after the XFactor ended, just around late February. And now here Harry sat. Alone, in their vacation flat, having planned a wonderful dinner for later that night. His head hurt thinking about the fact that Louis was out right now doing whatever, shopping or just sightseeing.

He would ring his neck if he came back smelling like smoke. Louis had done a wonderful job of not smoking their entire holiday, only picking up a cigarette that first day. What bugged Harry more than anything was the fact that Louis always remembered their anniversary. _Always._ Even the little, random things like when they had their first kiss, and the first time Louis cooked for Harry.

It hit a quarter to six and Louis still hadn’t said anything to him. By that time, Harry had already canceled their dinner reservations. He had returned home with a few bags and put them all away in their respective places. He gave Harry a kiss and told him he was going to take a shower. Harry bit his lip and sat out on the balcony for a while.

Harry walked back inside the flat to grab another beer and Louis setting the table for dinner. There was nothing particularly fancy about it. Just two chilled beers sitting on the table, and Louis’ hair was messy and Harry was completely ticked off.

“Louis what are you doing?”

Louis looked up from where he was setting down a plate. “I’m setting the table…?”

“No, Louis I mean what are you doing? Why are you setting the table? Why aren’t we going out to dinner for our anniversary? Why the hell aren’t you dressed up?”

What peeved Harry off more than anything was the fact that Louis didn’t seem even remotely phased by any of this.

“What, we can’t dine-in? We’ve gone to a bunch of fancies in the past few weeks alone, thought I’d cook for you. Made a fool-proof roast and gravy, and there’s a quiche in the oven-“

“Louis.” Harry was furious. “It’s our anniversary! You haven’t said a damn thing all day! This is part of why I planned this holiday, so we could get away and actually celebrate this year without being holed up at home! You got up at eight after I gave you a morning blowie, we had breakfast, then you went out for _hours_ without so much as a fucking word about why. I’m furious, Lou, because this is our day. _Our day._ And I-“

“Harry.”

He began pacing the room. “I can’t even look at you right now. I wouldn’t have been mad if you just said ‘Happy Anniversary,’ but no, you just went on like it was a normal day. And now, even after I said all of this, I still haven’t gotten a Happy Anniversary! Yeah, I get that I could have said it to you this morning so that way you could remember, but you were already up and out of bed by the time I opened my mouth-“

“Harry Styles, would you stop pacing for one damn minute, shut your mouth and look at me!”

The room fell silent and Harry’s shoulders tensed. Slowly, he turned around and gasped, only to see Louis standing in front of him with a velvet box held open between his thumb and index finger. It was all paired up with the sheepish smile Louis had on his face.

“By now, you should probably know that I’m kind of a sneaky one when it comes to surprises don’t you think,” he muttered. “And I never forget an important date, no matter what. I just like to do a bit of sneaking around to surprise my honey for our big day. No need to fuss.”

“Oh my god, Louis…” Harry’s eyes were stinging with tears.

“And you know,” he continued, “You trust me, and I trust you, but I did give you a mighty scare there. Got you proper angry, with all your chatty rant that started pouring out. So I won’t do it again.”

He gave Harry a little wink, then, after what felt like ages, sank down onto his right knee. “So what do you say? Do you trust me enough to spend the rest of your life with me, to act like those two carefree kids we were a few years ago? To marry me?”

As Harry stepped closer, the breath escaped from his lungs in a quiet sob. The ring that sat in the box was brilliantly shiny, with teeny little diamonds and a simple amethyst birthstone decorating the band. It was gorgeous, to say the least, and Louis eyes were just as bright.

He nodded slowly. “Yeah. Yes, I mean, yes I’ll marry you.”

Louis stood up in a flash and threw himself into Harry’s arms. They swayed back and forth with their ears ringing in happy laughter right up until the quiche was just about to burn. How typical.

“I love you so much, H, so don’t you _ever_ underestimate me.” Louis gave him a long, slow kiss between forkfuls of roast.

Harry smiles. “I swear I won’t.”

“Good, because your final gift of the evening is the fact that I talked to a broker today and bought this flat.”

Harry’s eyes widened. “What? Are you serious?”

“As I’ve ever been. This is all ours. We can escape here whenever we need.”

Harry engulfed him in a hug and whispered, “thank you, thank you, thank you,” into his neck.

When Louis wakes up the next morning and sees Harry sitting out on the balcony, admiring his ring and smiling to himself, Louis knows that his boy is his life. That their new chapter started right now, and that this little piece of paradise was all their own.

 

**Author's Note:**

> tealourry.tumblr.com


End file.
